Fragment
by indigopumpkins
Summary: When love isn't enough, we tend to lose hope, and lose sight of the things, that matter the most. Sweeney/Lovett. Please Review, thank-you!
1. When love isn't enough

A/N: This little idea popped into my head about a week ago, and has been bugging me since. Let me know how it works out. If you like it, I'll be more than happy to continue.

Disclaimer: Sweeney Todd is not mine, and never will be mine (goes off to sulk in a dark corner).

**Fragment**

_When Love isn't enough_

(Mrs. Lovett's P.O.V.)

Sure, I love 'im. Doesn't mean I don't get mad at 'im every now and then. But it 'ad never occurred to me, 'ow difficult it was to love 'im. I 'ave tried so 'ard, with all the smiles and lit'le gestures, but 'e's just so stuck in 'is own bloody world. I don't know 'ow to break 'im out of it. Sometimes love just isn't enough, and we 'ave to come to face the reality of it. So tha's what I decided on the cold rainy London mornin'. I give up. I just can't wait around for 'im anymore. This is goodbye. I'm leavin' London, and never lookin' back.

As you may be wonderin', where all these thoughts came from, well I'll tell ye. I was in the market buyin' some more bread, and ran into me friend Mrs. Bloomsdale. Plump old thing, very sweet, been one of me customers fer years. She told me of a girl who came to 'er every day for over a month. Said the poor thing was love sick for a man who paid 'er no mind, no mind at all. She said she gave the girl some advice. Sometimes love just isn't enough, she said to the poor girl. Well Mrs. Bloomsdale didn't see the girl for over three months. Thought she might've moved or somethin'. Well by the end of that third month, she came runnin' into 'er house screamin' and carryin' on like a crazed woman. The girl told Mrs. Bloomsdale that the boy who'd paid 'er no mind started to notice when she wouldn't talk to 'im or look at 'im. 'E told 'er that it drove 'im mad for those few months and realized 'is mistake. Can ye believe that? If only that was the case with Mr. Todd. 'E's been ignorin' me ever since that Lucy of 'is walked into 'is life. She's been dead now for over a year. E's 'ad 'is revenge on the Judge, and luckily no one's been snoopin' around for 'im. Johanna's 'alf way across the world. Yet Mr. T continues to brood over what can never be replaced. Stubborn 'e is, always 'as been, even when we was kids.

I can remember one day, we was playin' out in the snow. It didn't bother me at first, but when 'e started shakin' I asked 'im where 'is coat was. Said 'e didn't feel like wearin' it. 'E snuck outside to play with me, so 'e wouldn't 'ave to run into 'is mum. Stupid boy sat in a hot bath fer nearly four 'ours. 'Ad to walk 'ome by meself because of 'is foolishness.

Yes, Sweeney Todd, Benjamin Barker, whichever ye prefer are both stubborn men. And it's that lit'le fact that 'as me packin' my bags and leavin'.

(Sweeney Todd's P.O.V)

Where was that bloody woman with my food? Not that I'm going to eat it, but it's her responsibility! I shouldn't have to tell her. It's all her fault, everything was always her fault. I wager she's talking to one of her customers. Probably about silly things such as dresses or whatever women speak of these days. I'm growing impatient, and begin to pace. No, no I need to sit down; I'll just close my eyes and dream of my Lucy and her golden hair. Her wheat colored locks are so much neater than the redhead downstairs. And my beautiful daughter who smiles at me when I show her, her favorite doll. I miss that smile, Lord I miss that smile. Just to see it one more time, I would die a happy man. I know now that Lucy is gone, and so is my Johanna, but find it ever harder to forget. I thought when I had completed my revenge; I would have escaped this hell hole. But I can't bring myself to do it. Though the streets of London are set in a gloomy portrait of nothing but blues and blacks; Lucy lived here. She walked down these cobblestoned streets, bought food at the market and lived in this very room. Lucy and Johanna are with London, and so London is where I shall stay.

I smile at the very memory of them. They're so close, almost as if I can reach out and touch them. The fact that I can't upsets me and my usual frown is once again back in its rightful place. I hear something downstairs, sounds of running water and banging noises every now and then. Must be making it now; stupid woman slept late. After that Toby boy left to become a Butcher's apprentice, she's been slacking off. She'll kill herself by doing this alone. Maybe I'll get some peace and quiet when she does! I walk over to my window and look out at the dreary day. The water shuts off and my eyes cast downward to the people of London. Then something catches my eye. Red frizzy hair and, what were those… suitcases? The sight angers me, and I rush out of my shop and down to the street.

Before she has a chance to turn and leave, I grab her arm and pull her toward me. She looks frightened at first, but when she realizes it's me her face falls into a look of hatred and annoyance.

"Where do you think you're going?" I spit.

"Away from you!" she hisses. What the bloody hell's gotten into her?

"Where's my food?" I growl.

She scoffs at me, like I'm the lowest man she's ever met. A simple "humph" escapes her lips, and she pulls her arm away.

I walk beside her questioning, "Where are you going?"

She turns to me and looks me dead in the eye. She plasters a fake smile on her face before colliding her hand with my cheek.

"How dare ye ask me where I'm goin' like I'm yer bleeding pet! I'm leavin' London! Goodbye Mr. Todd!"

"Fine, go!" I bark at her.

"Goodbye Mr. Todd!" She gathered her skirts and left Fleet Street. Huffing, I walked into the shop to make my own damned breakfast. I slammed every drawer, every cabinet and every lid to express my anger. Damned woman.

"_How dare ye ask me where I'm goin'_" that God-awful voice of hers says, entering my head.

I snuff my food, letting that scowl be forever drawn on my face. Stupid woman… stupid London… stupid life, I curse under my breath. She'll be back.

(Mrs. Lovett's P.O.V)

I can already feel the tears brimming me eyes. I won't let meself cry, I say as I'm walkin' toward the train station. I won't do it, not for him. Ruddy bastard deserves the worst fate 'Ell's got to offer. Closer I get to the station, the more worrisome I become. That feelin' of dread that grows in the pit of me stomach. I ignore it while I purchase a one-way ticket to the countryside. It's no beach, but at least it's away from Mr. Todd. A man about me age, with blonde 'air and green eyes, comes to sit by me. The train was delayed for 15 minutes and its passengers 'ad to wait. 'E's handsome alright takin' out 'is newspaper and readin' it carefully. I draw me attention back to the train and sigh. The man says somethin' and catches me off guard.

"What?" I ask 'im kindly.

"I said you look like yer havin' a bad day." Lit'le does he know, he's exactly right.

"No I'm fine." I lie sweetly.

"Are ye sure?" 'E asks. I thought about it a lit'le and before I knew it, I was tellin' 'im what had 'appened. And surprisingly 'e looked concerned. Probably out of politeness but still, it was nice to know 'e listened.

Our train soon was lettin' its passengers aboard, and I took me bags and got in line. With one last look at the dreadful place, I let out a sigh and go to find me seat. I don't know why I started to panic when the train whistled loudly and started off. I suppose it was the realization that I was really leavin'. I'm really leavin' London, I say to meself, and I'm not comin' back.

A/N: uh review? (Hides) Sorry if they seem a little out of character, but I had to make Mrs. Lovett have a change of heart. I only did this so it would go along with my plot. Don't worry… I have a plan!


	2. We tend to lose hope

**Fragment**

_We tend to lose hope_

(Sweeney's P.O.V)

Three days, it had been three days, and not once have I caught a glimpse of her. I've had to make my own food, do my own laundry, things a man should not _have_ to do. I was a woman's job, it was. Yet here I am hanging my trousers on a line. This is ridiculous, I shouldn't be here. After this, I'm looking for a new apartment. Stupid bloody woman. I could very well find a new place to live, and spend my days rotting somewhere else.

I felt a certain emptiness in that moment. Do I really want to rot away? I can't believe I'm questioning this. Of course it is human nature to want to feel joyous and accepted, but Lucy… No I won't forget Lucy. I'm her husband and therefore my duty to be loyal. _Was_ her husband, a small voice in my mind says. No I **am **her husband, I fight defensively. But something in the darkest depths of my heart knew… I was lying. I want to love and be loved, but sadly… I've forgotten how.

That evening I was tired, hungry, and angry. More than normal I should say. Not a single room for board. Weakly leaning back in the chair, I tossed the useless newspaper into the fire. The flames licked at the black print, eating it away, until there was nothing but ash. This hatred in my heart treats me the same way, and I am no more than a sickly pale parchment. But this fire, this _hate _is a lot more gruesome and unforgiving. It prefers to burn me, slowly. A dreadful sigh escaped my lips. Lucy… why did this happen? I ponder in my thoughts, wondering why fate must be so cruel. I haven't been joyful in years, and it's starting to take a toll on me. Though, I'll never admit it.

I wish to see her hair. It shined, just as the sun had, 16 long years ago. I remember how it felt in my hand; smooth as silk. And it danced gracefully in the wind. Oh my Lucy… She was an angel, surely she had to be. With those thoughts, I fell into a light sleep.

Dreams of yellow hair and the richest greenest grass filled my head. Her laugh sang a beautiful melody in my ears. Her skin seemed to be just beyond my reach. This dream repeated over and over again. Hours had seemed to pass in this dream, when finally I was able to touch that soft pink skin. Retracting my hand, I looked up to not find Lucy but a certain _Baker _who was invading my thoughts. Quickly I snapped my eyes open to see the dawn had arrived. I'll be fine without her I reassure myself, just **fine**.

That day, I went in search again of a room for rent. Walking silently through the maze of people and streets, I felt that familiar bitterness drip itself onto my soul. It hardly seemed like noon, London always being a dark and dirty place, but it was then I found a room for rent. My jaw clenched, knowing I'd have to talk to people. I hate speaking. It's just one out of all the other things I despise. My arm reached out to knock before a man opened the door.

"Come to look at the room sir?"

"Yes" I find that I sound more like a snake than a human.

"Good, come in, come in!" He ushers me inside.

It's a nice house, well furnished and thank God didn't smell of pies. It was a familiar scent; I've recognized it before… ah… I know… shaving cream. A delightful smell just before a glorious pool of red. Like a wounded soldier that lay still in a snowy battlefield.

He tells me his daughter has been recently married off to man with an estate in the country. He never liked his wife's choice of husband, but the man had money and didn't strike his daughter. I thought briefly of Johanna, at this man's words. Though Anthony had little money, I could tell he loved my daughter with every sense of the word. Much like I loved my Lucy. She was well off, I thought to myself, when we arrived at the spare room. The man, Mr. Harrison he told me, jiggled with his keys before pushing open the door. It was blank, not a speck of dust falls in the space. The ceiling is a dull worn blackened wood. And the walls were covered by a mossy green wall paper. A fairly large window was placed opposite of the door. It allowed me a wonderful view of the crummy street of London. Grey curtains hung loosely from the rod above this window. All in all the room was a perfect place for me. So I turned to Mr. Harrison, putting on a friendly smile and paying him accordingly.

I would get by just fine without Mrs. Lovett and her sodding pies. It would be me and my razors, my friends. They glistened and smiled at me now sitting atop my dresser. No, I say to them, there shall be no more rubies. Instead we shall cherish those glorious blood spills for the rest of our days; just as I shall cherish my Lucy and Johanna.

A knock came at my door not a moment later. It was Mr. Harrison. He wore a dark robe and a pipe propped in the corner of his mouth.

"How's it coming?" he asks me.

"Wonderfully, thanks very much." I answer him truthfully.

"Good, good. Say I hope you don't mind me prying, but how is it that you came to need a room? You are certainly handsome enough to have a wife and a house."

"That my friend," I say, "Is the doings of a certain landlady. Yes the stupid woman decided to just get up and leave one morning. She left with no prior warning and her nose stuck in the air. The worst of it was that she was the one who made me my food, and washed my linens."

"Well, that's mighty awful. I hope you'll like it here, though we do not have a maid sorry."

"No need to apologize." I ended our conversation at that and turned to the window. It's Mrs. Lovett who needs to apologize.

(Mrs. Lovett's P.O.V)

The country side was breath takin'. I could 'ear the song birds whistle delightfully and the wheat fields danced heavenly in the wind. The man who 'ad spoken to me before I got on the train, 'ad perched 'imself next to me the whole way. 'Is name is John and 'e tells me that 'e lost 'is wife nearly four years ago. 'E 'ad lived in this area with 'er during their marriage, and when she passed away, 'e couldn't stand livin' in the same 'ouse and walkin' the streets 'e'd walked with 'er. Now 'e 'as moved on and 'is ready to start again. I tell 'im that, that was very brave of 'im. Tell I'm that it's not easy movin' on but we got to do it eventually. I did with me Albert. Now Albert's no more than a mere memory.

John, I noticed, was very generous; 'e 'ad some relatives who allowed 'im to rent the old barn in the back. Course the barn was freshened up to be a livable space. I gladly accepted 'is offer, seein' as I didn't 'ave anywhere else to go.

Now three days after me change of 'eart, I sit contently by the fire. I wonder briefly on how Mr. Todd was 'oldin' up. A part of meself regrets the decision to come out 'ere. But there's more to life than waitin' around for a 'opeless 'eartbroken man. The fire crackles as I slowly drift off. Perhaps my dreams will be of the pretty seaside.

Waves crashed against rock, and seagulls cried loudly over'ead. Now isn't this relaxin', I say to meself. The sun was high in the crisp blue skies. A smile glided across my lips, and I turned to see somethin' very surprisin'. John smiled as 'e sat next to me. 'Is arm slipped around me, pullin' me closer. I miss this feelin', to feel loved. I miss feelin' like I'm important, like I belong. I now fully face John, and his smile brightens.

Then there is blood, too much blood, and a fierce fire burns all around me. Am I in 'ell? A dark figure stands before me crippled form. He leans down to smile a sickly grin. 'Is 'air is blacker than night, and a single white streak is placed on this side of 'is 'ead. Sweeney Todd? My God, it is 'im! 'Is black eyes stare straight through me and eat away at me 'eart.

"Mr. Todd?" I whimper.

'E growls at me pullin' somethin' from 'is coat pocket.

"Don't you dare forget me!" 'E roars menacingly. Then as quick as lightnin' Mr. Todd slits me throat. As everythin' fades to black, I jolt upright nearly slappin' whoever was tryin' to wake me. John was in 'is night clothes and looked mighty worried. I put me hand over me chest to calm meself. And it works effectively until John 'olds me 'and. Now I can feel a slight blush creepin' up over me cheeks. John smiles warmly and places a light feathery kiss upon me 'and. It was then 'e takes 'is leave.

Now me real nightmare began. I think I'm fallin' for Mr. John Patterson, and me mind is not very 'appy with that notion. But why should I care about what Mr. Todd thinks? I shouldn't 'ave to feel sorry for tryin' to move on. After all it's Mr. Todd's fault I was 'ere in the first place. It's Sweeney Todd that needs to apologize!

A/N: Whew, glad that chapter's done! Hope the few who've reviewed enjoyed this chapter! I'd like to know if they're still in character, because if not, I can always go back and add more detail or change a few things. R&R! Thanks!


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